The Last Days
by Krispykreme14
Summary: The whole of Sector V is dreading Friday. Why? On Friday, Abby turns thirteen. But what happens when they find out that Abby's been harboring a secret from them all along? Couples: 3/4, 2/5, 1/362 - the whole shebang ;
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya! (: So I've recently gained a strong interest (-cough- obsession -cough-) with Codename: Kids Next Door. And what more could I do rather than write dreamy fanfics about them? :D A few quick notes: this is my very first KND story **_**ever**_**. Have mercy, if you please. -smiles hopefully and is pelted by rotten tomatoes- Ahem. While I cleanse my face of red fruit (yes, FRUIT :o) I'd also like to point out that anything established in Operation: ZERO or Operation: INTERVIEWS will take pretty much no part in this story. Why? I haven't seen them. -more tomatoes- SO. This takes place when each member of Sector V is twelve years old. I wouldn't say it's about any one particular character; I'd like to think they'll all play an equal part in the story. But, who knows? I'm never one to have full control of a story as it progresses. (: Okay, enough of my rambling; enjoy! -whips out fruit AND vegetable shield-**

-

Why not amnesia? Why couldn't they simply get _amnesia_ when they turned thirteen? It had the exact same effect as decommissioning - no one could remember a thing. It even caused a little extra pain, in case the younger KND wanted to give the 'teenagers' their first butt-kicking on their way out! Plus, every KND operative knew perfectly well that they would have questionable toilet plungers thrusted directly onto their faces when the time came. It wasn't like any of them could be looking forward to _that._ And yet, each operative knew perfectly well that the very fate awaited each of them. Because of the cold, sad truth.

Decommissioning is permanent.

It was these thoughts that raced through the minds of Sector V as they pretended to relax in their treehouse, as if it were a day just like any other. All of them stood firmly at the age of twelve. Twelve, going on thirteen. However, one was much closer to that dreaded age than any of them would wish. And so Abigail Lincoln felt her heart sinking ever deeper into her chest as the minutes ticked by.

They were all painfully aware that the girl's thirteenth birthday was just days away - four, to be precise - and it was eating away the team's spirit like termites at a woodshop. The large, crudely-made clock that hung over the pantry made is ticking noises seemingly louder by the second. It seemed it would drive any one of them bonkers at any second; all five pre-teens were considerably tense in their usual spots.

Suddenly a loud "Ragh!" was heard before a football was flung at the clock, sending it to the wood-board floor and breaking it in two. The feeble ticking continued for a moment before it was silent. The football rolled clumsilly to a halt nearby. The very same football Wallabee Beatles had been tossing anxiously a moment before.

Three individuals, including Abby, turned to the youth with agrivated expressions, but the Aussie was looking - rather scared - at the younger girl sitting beside him. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes firey. Kuki Sanban's frustration seemed to have gotten the better of her, forcing her to seize Wally's football and use it to end the clock's life.

"Sorry," the young Japanese mumbled as she leaned over the arm of the couch she sat in, resting her chin in the crook and pouting with a sadness and anger no one could fix - not even Wally, who leaned over awkwardly to pat her shoulder, an attempt at comfort.

Kuki wasn't the only one who was frustrated; everyone in Sector V was terrified of having Abby gone from their lives. At least with the clock not ticking threateningly any longer, they didn't have such a constant reminder of Abby's numbered days in the Kids Next Door.

"Hey, um, want some ice cream, Numbah 5?" Hoagie Gilligan attempted in a would-be cheerful voice. The boy was considerably less plump than he had been at ten, though one wouldn't quite call him 'slim'. It was like him to suggest sweets to make one feel better.

Abby half-smiled when Hoagie used her codename. The other operatives had been calling her 'Numbah 5' quite frequently in the last few months; it seemed they wanted her to feel the full experience of a KND operative while she still had the time. She appreciated the gesture, but it seemed it made her all the more upset.

"Nah, Numbah 5's cool." The girl stood up from her seat at the computer desk; it wasn't like she was busy. Staring at the computer screen could sometimes help fill the emptiness she was feeling. Probably because the background featured five young children, care-free and diverse, yet they all fit together in perfect sync. The photograph showed Abby, Wally, Kuki, Hoagie, and Nigel Uno, the sector's leader, who was currently trying to busy himself with preparing battle plans for any future fight. Fights Abby would not face with them.

The blue-clad girl walked past all of them - stopping briefly to give Wally a noogie over the couch, to which he displayed strong protest - and headed down the hall to her room.

The rest of the sector watched her go until they heard Nigel sigh. They each turned to him and were somewhat surprised to see the anger and frustration on his usually unreadable face. He gripped the sides of his head with his hands; if he had any hair, he would surely be pulling at it.

"Planning battles is impossible! Without Ab- Numbah 5, the coordinations will be way off. And we don't even know who'll be assigned to Sector V in her place! Without a stealth expert, we'll practically be sitting ducks." He lay his head on the table before him for a moment before standing and scooting his chair in. "I've got to talk to Rachel; the new recruit will have to be chosen carefully."

He left opposite the way Abby had gone, to contact the Moon Base. No one watched him go. Hoagie folded his arms on the countertop in front of him and lay his head in them, exhausted. They were all well aware that the pilot had hardly slept a wink in weeks. Perhaps he stayed up thinking about what life in the Kids Next Door would be like without Abby, and possibly be wondering about his own up-coming decommissioning.

At least, everyone else seemed to be thinking it.

Wally glanced over as the couch cushion shifted and saw that Kuki had gotten up to fetch the dustpan and broom, which hung from their hooks dusty and stirring with cobwebs; it wasn't like a bunch of kids had much use for cleaning supplies. Apparently the remainders of the clock on the floor were making her feel guilty.

"Eh, here, Numbah 3, Ah've got it," the Aussie decided as he got up from the couch as well to hold the dustpan for Kuki. She glanced at him, and the look in her eyes showed that she'd smile her thank-you if there were anything to smile about. The two shared a look for a moment, emerald eyes locked with violet.

The trance broke when they heard the pantry door slam, and they looked up to see Hoagie standing sheepishly with a granola bar and a juice box. "Heh heh, um, sorry," he apologized for the loud noise. He obviously hadn't been aware of the moment the other two were sharing, but he certainly was now.

"I'm gonna, erm, go work on the C.O.O.L.B.U.S." Giving a sort of awkward salute-thing with his free hand, he hurried off to his room, leaving the remaining two operatives to stare after him, before exchanging a look.

"Um, yeah. Here," Wally extended the dustpan towards where Kuki was sweeping. She piled the shattered clock pieces into the pan and leaned on the broomstick while Wally dumped them into the trash. They replaced the cleaning supplies on their hooks and returned to the couch, though it was undoubtedly uncomfortable to sit together with so many empty seats in the room. Yet somehow, they both agreed to it.

"Thanks," Kuki piped up suddenly from where she sat on the far right side of the couch. Wally waved it off with his hand. "So..." Her hand seemed to be scuttling tentatively towards Wally's. Her face gave away nothing; it was as if her hand were moving on its own accord.

Wally noticed it too. He tried to fix his eyes on the television in front of him, though it was hard with the show muted. He knew very well that he should probably be comforting Kuki right now. She would be losing her best girl friend - possibly for good - in a matter of days. Not to mention, their own decommissionings weren't far off, much as they tried not to think about it. Plus, Wally _still_ was fixated on the idea that the two of them could only ever be 'friends'. He knew quite well that he liked Kuki very much - probably more than a fellow operative should. He had come to terms with this a while back. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised to know that what he was feeling was love.

But of course, it was pretty pointless.

Kuki was ... well, Kuki. She was giggly, and bubbly, and sweet and innocent and nice and all that other good stuff. Plus, as she grew she had gone from sheer adorability to being a very pretty young lady. (_Oh, God,_ Wally thought, _Ah sound loike my mum._) She still wasn't the most level-headed, but she'd proved time and time again to be quite intelligent. Wally would say she was just about perfect.

Which was exactly why it would never work. Wally was painfully different from Kuki. Her delicate grace was challenged by his blunt callousness. Her beauty differed from his battle scars. She was just plain good. Wally often had trouble deciphering right from wrong. He knew they were a terrible match. It just _couldn't work_. And it was that knowledge that kept Wally from spilling his guts for so long. If he ever told Kuki how he truly felt, they would both end up getting hurt, when he'd much rather have it so that only he felt the wounds of love.

These thoughts coursed through his head and, before he knew it, Kuki's fingertips were just millimeters from his. He watched their hands, then he turned to her eyes, flickering with sadness and longing and memories and ... something else he couldn't quite place. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out; she only mouthed "Wally."

Wally found he could not look away. He felt dangerously close to suddenly telling her everything when finally - _finally! _- her fingertips brushed his. It felt as if the brief touch sent an electric shock coursing throughout his whole body, and as if being controlled by some other force, he stood up quite spontaneously, suddenly blushing like mad, trying to make his eyes find anything but Kuki.

"Eh, Ah'd better, uh, um, go work out. Just 'cause we haven't been on a mission in a while doesn't mean we never will be, eh?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, forcing himself to stare at the ground. _Don't look in her eyes_, a voice in his head told him. _If you do, you'll never leave._ Coughing, he turned and walked at a fast pace towards his own room, leaving Kuki alone.

The Japanese youth sighed, pulling her legs up on the couch and resting her forehead on her knees. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _She mentally kicked herself repeatedly. _You always, _always_, pick the most inappropriate times for these things. Abby's leaving; you should be sad. Devastated. Don't worry about him now._

A migrane began making its presense known, so Kuki stretched out her legs on the couch and lay back on one of the pillows, staring up at the ceiling blankly. _How foolish I am to think he'd be thinking about _me _- especially at a time like this! He doesn't feel the same; get over it._

Though Kuki knew she could never 'get over it', she could try to free her mind from the troubled thoughts racing through it - for the moment, anyway. Closing her eyes, she began thinking back on some of her first days with the Kids Next Door; the Training Academy... their first mission... her tenth birthday, on which _she_ was able to lead a mission! What a (messy) time that had been.

And so Kuki Sanban slowly drifted off to sleep. Because, as it was, there really, truly wasn't a thing to do.

-

Hoagie Gilligan wasn't what one would call 'romantic'. If anything, he was 'desperate' or someone who 'needs a clue'. At least, those things could be gleaned from the never-ending gossip of seventh-grade girls.

Tightening in a screw beneath the engine of the C.O.O.L.B.U.S., he cursed quietly under his breath, though he knew no one would be able to hear him. He was angry with himself; Abby was being _decommissioned_ in a few days. If Hoagie didn't tell her the truth about how he felt, he'd never get the chance. Being a boy who was well aware of his feelings - as opposed to a certain blonde Australian - he had long since known of his own fondness toward Abby. Now, Hoagie had never been particularly afraid of rejection; in fact, he used to chase after Abby's sister, Cree, endlessly, no matter how many times she shot him down. But this, this was different. It was Abby.

If he _were _to confess to her ... what then? With the others - Wally and Kuki; Nigel and Rachel - it was so obvious that both felt strong feelings for one another. But Abby ... she rarely showed her emotions to anyone, even her closest friends. It was basically impossible for Hoagie to know how she felt. And if anyone had a chance to know, it was him. It seemed the pudgy young man had a gift for seeing through Abby's hard shell, to see her real emotions - or at least the basics of them. But knowing if she _loved_ him, or anyone, was pretty much out of the question. If there was one thing Abby would keep secret, it was her romantic feelings.

Thus, Hoagie was left without a clue. But he couldn't keep how he felt to himself for the rest of his life ... he'd practically be Wally if he did! He'd just have to take a shot in the dark, and hope he didn't miss.

-

"I'm sorry, Numbah 1. I'm swamped up here; I can't concentrate on who's going to take Numbah 5's place right now." The stacks of paper on either side of Rachel showed that it was true; some document or other slightly obscured Nigel's view of her on the screen.

The bald boy bit back a sigh. He was well aware of Rachel's massive duties, and knew he shouldn't ask of her to pay particular attention to _his _sector when she had so much to worry about. But the little devil on his shoulder had told him that he had a shot at averting Rachel's attention long enough for him to gain this advantage. A small part of him was aware of the Soopreme Leaduh's fondness towards him, and let him know that he had a better chance at getting Rachel's undevided attention than any other operative.

But the girl's voice was firm, though her features showed sympathy. She would miss Abby too; the whole of the Kids Next Door would. She, along with her sector, were quite superior in their own specialties, as well as their abilities as a team. Rachel didn't call them 'one of her best sectors' for no reason.

And yet...

"I understand," Nigel put in suddenly, though his voice was sullen.

Rachel felt a twinge of guilt tug at her conscience. She flustered for a moment before whipping out a home-made calculator and doing some complicated equation on it before asking, "How about tomorrow? Your team can report to the Moon Base and we'll discuss which potential operatives would best replace Numbah 5."

Nigel couldn't help but wince. Of course no one would be able to truly replace Numbah 5 to any of them, not by a long shot. But it had to be done, so he nodded. "Tomorrow will suffice."

Rachel tried to smile encouragingly at him, but found she hadn't the heart; instead she regained her business-like manner and allowed her usual no-nonsense scowl to fall back into place. "Right. Report here tomorrow at eleventeen-hundred. Numbah 362 over and out." With that, the screen went black. Nigel rubbed the back of his neck, his nerves not letting him sit still for a minute. Letting his hands clasp behind his back, he paced about his contact room.

Tomorrow would not be easy.

-

"Good thing the new agent was here to let us past the defenses," growled a deep voice, far too mature for a child.

Another snorted. "Let's just get those battle plans and get out. Bein' in here gives me the creeps." The dark-clad figure gave a shudder to demonstrate his point.

The first individual gave a small nod, and the two seperated to scope out the tree house, hiding repeatedly behind branches and shelves, just in case the sleeping gas they'd let loose minutes earlier hadn't reached every room just yet.

The first one to speak came across Kuki sleeping soundly on the couch, her raven hair framing her pale face like a picture. "Humph," he spoke again, "Quite a looker, this one is. Wouldn't mind having her on our side."

The second waved off the comment. "She'll be within our ranks soon, don't worry." By the looks of it, she was well into her twelfth year of life. It wouldn't be long.

"There you are," drawled the deeper voice when a new, smaller figure appeared, silhouetted by the afternoon sun shining from the window at the end of the hall.

"Keep it down," the form warned, removing the gas mask that muffled the words. "I told you I'd get the plans. Here," a gloved hand reached out to the taller figure, and held in it was a rolled up blueprint design.

The larger person grabbed it graciously and tucked it into his jet-pack pocket. "Pleasure doin' business with you," he murmured in a voice that very nearly made the new-comer shiver with fear. "I 'spect you'll be stayin' at _our _headquarters very soon. This little deed of yours has all but secured your place with the teenagers."

The young'n grinned. "Just as I hoped. Glad I decided to work for you early." With that, the individual gave a strange salute, very much different from the one used by the KND, and turned on their heel to march back down the hallway to their secluded room.

The two intruders smirked at one another - though it was pointless; the armor covering the lower halves of their faces made the gesture invisible - and turned tail to quietly exit the treehouse. As the second slowly climbed down the window which led to the empty sky outside, he chanced one last glance at the slumbering Kuki and smirked once more.

"Be seein' ya soon, girly. Be seein' ya all _real_ soon."

-

**Alright, now, truthfully: how terrible was it? Dreadful? Drab? Dschmoring? (For lack of a better word that starts with 'd' :/)Welp, lemme know :D -hides behind shield and waits-**


	2. Chapter 2

**WOW! -fans self- I definetly wasn't expecting such incredible reviews - and so fast! :D I really was expecting flames, to tell the truth. :/ Thanks so much! C: Oh, and I forgot to point this out in the last chapter: if you've seen the movie 'Wall-E', you know what a big (and sweet) deal is made out of holding hands. So the Wally and Kuki hand-touch-thing was inspired by that. Plus, I thought it was cute. Wall-E? Wally? (: -dodges lettuce- What? No tomatoes?**

**-gets tomatoes as well- Well, guess I deserved that. I'm terribly TERRIBLY sorry it's taken so long to update. I really don't have much of an excuse, except for laziness and distractions. Yeah. I'm the excuse master. ;o Anyway, I shouldn't take as long for further chapters. I really hope y'all can forgive me? :3**

**-hit by watermelons-**

"_WHAT?_"

The bellow seemed to shake the whole tree house, sending Numbah's 2, 4, and 5 dashing out of their rooms to the main room, where Nigel's face was redder than the sweater he wore. It seemed smoke should be pouring out of his ears. His teeth gritted menacingly, and he stormed around the room in a rage that even frightened Wally a bit.

Nigel's eyes seemed locked on two things, as if he were readying his pupils to shoot lasers at them at any moment: one was the table he had been sitting at a while ago, where he had been arranging battle plans. Then his eyes would dart to Kuki who was standing in the corner, her arms crossed and her face indignant.

"What's going on?" Hoagie asked tentatively, seeing as how Nigel was already over the edge. It obviously had something to do with Kuki, who gave him an 'it's stupid, so don't worry' look.

"What's going on? _What's going on?_" Nigel seemed so incredulous that he was momentarilly at a loss for words. Hoagie couldn't remember seeing him so irrational. "What's _going on _is that I left important battle plans - filled with our advantages, weaknesses, and some of our best technology - ON THIS TABLE!" Nigel slammed his fist down on the table of which he spoke.

Abby raised an eyebrow and gestured with her hand for him to continue. "And...?"

"_And_ Kuki was the last one left in the room. It's a mutual understanding that whoever is left in the main room is in charge of alerting the rest of us to any intruders!"

"_Intruders?_" Wally half-yelped, half-yawned. He rubbed one eye with a fist; he was still considerably groggy from his nap a while ago.

"_YES_, intruders! _Teenagers_, no less; they've stolen our battle plans!" Nigel turned furious eyes on Kuki, who shrank back a bit into the corner. "And _Numbah 3_ was supposed to let us know if anyone got into the treehouse!" His eyes widened suddenly, and he looked at the ceiling as if it would give him an answer. "But _how _could they get in? No one would have let them past the defenses." He lowered his head and sighed, rubbing his eyes and sitting tensely on the couch.

Kuki, though she had grown considerably more mature since she was ten, still maintained her indignant demeanor, though there was noticable guilt in her eyes. However, by her tone of voice, no one would have guessed it.

"Well _excuse _me for being under the impression that the treehouse's defenses were _actually working_. How is it my fault that the intruder alert suddenly stopped operating?"

"It didn't."

Four sets of eyes turned to Hoagie, who stood disspiritedly before the computer screen, displayed on which was the levels of power they had going through each bit of technology throughout the treehouse.

His goggled eyes revealed nothing, but his mouth was set in a deep frown, one of bewilderment. "One of us had to let them in."

Kuki's eyes widened in great surprise, her defensive demeanor vanishing. "B-but ... none of us would have let them in!"

Wally nodded vigorously in agreement. "Those cruddy teenagers must've found some kind of technology that gets them past the defenses. " His jade eyes shone with worry, and he looked from one teammate to the next, seeming to hope their eyes would contain an answer he needed.

Hoagie scoffed bitterly. "Wishful thinking, Numbah Four. The scanner would have shown us if the defenses had failed."

Nigel tapped his chin, deep in thought. "But what if -"

"Look out!" This was Abby, who shoved Hoagie both side, which in turn knocked the other operatives aside as well, just as a monstrous machine broke through the entire west side of the treehouse.

**Bleargh. I gotta say, I think this was a kinda boring chapter. And short. :P I'm still getting back into the muse of writing, so bear with me. The next one should be better. I hope? :D**

**Anyway, if it didn't make you puke, the review buttons right down there. Yep, riiiiiiiight there.**

**(Sure hope I don't miss; that'd be embarrassing. xD)**

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	3. Chapter 3

**I've had the strangest week ever, I'll tell you, and yet I somehow still found time to write this chapter. xD I wonder if I've finally straightened out my priorities? Wow, it feels weird to be organized. O-o**

**Well, once again, thank you so much for the reviews on chapter two - they mean the world to me! ^-^**

**So anyway, here's chapter three for your critique. :D**

"Agh!"

A single shrill cry echoed throughout the treehouse. Smoke floated thickly in the air, making it impossible to find the source of the sound. The gigantic machine was perched halfway inside of the treehouse, halfway out, and was sitting precariously, as if it may fall over at any moment.

Nigel coughed continuously, aching to get the dust particles out of his windpipe that had intruded upon his quick intake of breath at the crash. He was hidden behind one of the large couches, frantically dialing on his communicator for the Moon Base to send back-up, and fast. The intruder alarm was now blaring like mad, and Hoagie, who was crouched behind the same couch, covered his ears as he tried to make out figures in the dusty air. His wearing goggles was an advantage at this point, as he could search through the debri-smogged treehouse without getting dirt in his eyes.

"Ahh!" Another cry from the same voice from before. Hoagie sprang to his feet, though a bit unsteadilly from the fall he'd just taken, and felt around with his hands for a wall to help lead him to the sound. He soon found a railing, but he wasn't sure to what; not wanting to fall out of the treehouse or anything, he kept a firm grip on the old wood as he seeked out what had now become short, anguished whimpers.

The dust sluggishly cleared from the air, eventually revealing Kuki, her face tear-stained, clutching her arm to her chest. Wally must have been by her side the second she'd screamed, because he was now trying to coax her into letting him see her arm. As Kuki herself was the medical officer, it was obvious that she wouldn't be capable of taking care of whatever injury had befallen her.

Hoagie inhaled a breath to speak, but choked momentarilly on the dust particles, much as Nigel had done previously. "Wha ..." _wheeze _... "What ha-happened?" _Cough._

At the sound of a new voice, Wally immediatly jumped to a protective crouching position in front of Kuki, his emerald eyes fierce, ready to take on whoever might harm Kuki again. When he saw that it was Nigel, he backed down a bit, though his eyes still darted warilly around the treehouse. He answered Nigel's question breathlessly: "We dove out of the way, and her arm scraped against a metal pipe that ... that _thing _must have knocked loose." His tan, calloused hands clenched and un-clenched as he thought of the pay-back these intruders would recieve.

Nigel gently pulled Kuki's arm outstretched so he could survey the damage as best he could. Kuki winced at every movement. There was, they realized, a six-inch gash along the inside of her forearm. At first glance, it didn't look _too _terribly deep, but the floating dirt around them was hovering threateningly, and the cut was certain to get infected if she didn't get it treated right away. Nigel couldn't help but feel bad for yelling at her previously.

And, though hated to say it, but he feared he had to: "Kuki, I think, once we can get whoever this is out of the treehouse, we need to get you to the, um, hospital."

The young girl's violet eyes widened with worry - she'd _hated_ hospitals, ever since what had happened with her precious Bradley - and she definetly didn't want to go now that she was the one who was hurt. "No," she stated firmly, pulling her arm back. "I'll fix it up myself."

Nigel sighed. "Kuki, you can't do that; it'll take too long for you to bandage it up with one hand, and in the meantime it's sure to get infected and..."

"I _said _I can fix it!" She certainly had grown more independent. The youthful Asian glared at her leader, trying to make her death-look break through the barrier of Nigel's sunglasses. It worked, and just as the bald Brit was standing, he heard someone yell out "Numbah One!" from across the large room. The air was finally clearing, and he could clearly see Abby, who had hidden behind the pantry when the collision occured. The French girl was pointing fervently at the large air-craft thing, out of which, as Nigel saw when he turned his head, had appeared four B.R.A.-clad teen ninjas, their scarcely-visible eyes alight with the prospect of battle.

Nigel glanced left and right, his shielded eyes finally finding a M.U.S.K.E.T. nearby. Scooping up the mustard gun with lightning speed, he held the weapon in front of him, hands clenched, finger on the trigger. At last, he was ready to fight. "What do you want?" he demanded, his teeth gritted.

The teen that stood in front of the rest appeared to have a bemused expression on his face, and his eyes calmly surveyed the young operatives: Numbah Five, on the far side of the room, who held a S.C.A.M.P.P. firmly before her; Numbah Two, who weilded his own M.U.S.L.E.T.; Numbah One, who returned the glare, and Numbah Four, with a S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R., whose protective stance in front of Kuki hadn't shifted, though Numbah Three, still crouched on the ground, held a G.U.M.Z.O.O.K.A. on her own accord.

_Too easy._

The teen cleared his throat, before speaking. "'Sup, kiddies? We're gonna be needing sumthin' from ya. Like, now?"

Nigel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Um, are you new? What makes you think you can get your hands on _anything _that belongs to us?" Normally little grunts of agreement could be heard from the rest of the sector whenever Nigel made a defiant statement, but the air was just too tense for un-needed dialogue, especially now that they were on Sector V's turf.

The teen brought his hands together and cracked each of the knuckles on them, one by one. "Well," he considered, "a fight would be pretty fun. We were really looking forward to kicking some pre-teen butt today -" Numbah Four's questioning scoff could be heard at this - "but the boss was clear. No fighting. Just secure and go."

Nigel was lost. _What_ boss were they talking about? And what were they trying to take? His mind spun wildly, but he still held the M.U.S.K.E.T. firmly, not taking his eyes off the enemy. "Whatever it is you're after, I'd like to see you _try _and take it."

"Oh, we'll try, and we'll succeed, but I don't think you'll see much of it." That being said, the teen reached into a seemingly-nonexistant pocket in the armor. When he extracted his hand, Abby suddenly yelled, "He's got a M.A.R.B.L.E.!"

Upon a half-second glance, Nigel saw a small spherical object between the teenager's thumb and forefinger. But what was the big deal about...?

"_Duck!_" Abby insistently cried, before diving back behind the pantry. Nigel only just had time to register Hoagie shoving him to the floor before the ground left them.

Fortunatly, the debri in the air only lasted for a few moments this time, because there wasn't much left to create debri by this time. When Nigel could look past the clouds of dust, he saw that the M.A.R.B.L.E. had blown out the entire wall on the west side, as well as most of the floor; where wooden planks had been was now open air, and most of the left-over floor was slanting toward the ground far, far below.

"_No!_" Wally yelled when he saw that Kuki had begin falling down the steep slant of the floor. Only a nail sticking out that had snagged her sleeve was keeping her in the treehouse; her legs dangled in the open air, and her lilac eyes staring up at Wally with terror.

The blond Aussie grasped the younger girl's wrist beneath her sleeve firmly in both hands, and Nigel leaned over to grab her other hand when she reached up. The youthful Asian's eyes were filled with tears, probably from the sharp wind, she strain on her injured arm, and the fear of falling. As the two strong operatives lifted her onto semi-solid floor, her eyes wandered to the far side of the distruction, and she gasped, before crying, "Numbah Five!"

Nigel and Wally's heads whipped in the direction Kuki was now pointing, and saw that while Hoagie wrestled viciously with one of the teen ninjas, another held Abby's hands firmly behind her back, while she struggled furiously, kicking her legs every which way. The teenager dragged her hurriedly onto the ship they'd crashed in on, and, perhaps for the first time in her life, Abby yelped, "_Help!_"

Nigel left Kuki in Wally's arms and ran as fast as he could over the slanted floor toward the ship, but the ginormous machine was already lifting itself from the broken floor, and the teen that Hoagie had been fighting stealthily slipped out of the pilot's grip and backed up until he dropped off the edge of the floor, into open air. A moment later he re-appeared, jet-pack in function, gliding over their heads to reach the teens' ship, which had risen considerably higher as the seconds passed.

"No you don't!" Hoagie snarled, before jumping as high as he could into the open air to get a grasp on the teenager's ankle. The teen ninja glared down at him as the two floated through the air, the older trying to shake off Hoagie's firm grip. "Go take a nap, kid," the teen barked, "you'll be joining us soon." With that, he set the jet-packs blasters to full power, sending him shooting into the air like a rocket. The shock of the sudden power-surge forced Hoagie to release the teenager's ankle, and he cried out for a moment as he was freefalling, until he felt three determined sets of hands grasp his arms just before he fell past reaching distance of the upset treehouse. For a few moments he dangled as the others hung on to him, though he took no notice of it as he flailed in mid-air, his only restriction being Numbahs One, Three, and Four's firm grips on him. The breathless twelve-year-old could only bellow a short, two-syllable declaration, that echoed and hung in the air long after: "_ABBY!_"

**-giggles- I'm so bad! ^^ I hope that didn't stink as bad as I think it did. :P**

**Oh, and if you're wondering just HOW strange my week has been? Example: Last night I had a dream that Hoagie and Abby were tango-ing to 'Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee' from Grease. I wonder if my imagination is debating on moving out. :P And that's not even the oddest thing. xD**

**And duuuuude, I'm on, like, a Daughtry-high right now. I keep singing 'September' in my head. xP**

**Haha, well, anyway. ^^; Reviews are quite wonderful, I must say. -sings- '**_**And what a wonderful way to say you love me**_**...'**

**I don't even know what song that's from. xP Oh, p'shaw. (If you've watched **_**Rocko's Modern Life**_**, you'll get it. :D) Just review if you wanna. (Please wanna!) :3**

**So why are you still reading this? xD Off you go!**


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